


The First Step

by bwblack



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-03
Updated: 2011-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-23 09:24:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bwblack/pseuds/bwblack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Events conspire against Mycroft's perfect vision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Step

**Author's Note:**

> Special thank to [Blooms84](http://archiveofourown.org/users/blooms84/pseuds/blooms84) who once wrote a line in a fic that haunted me for days and inspired this series. Also for the beta work. All remaining errors are mine.

He had been blessed with good vision, he knew that. His mother had worn glasses for as long as he could remember. Sherlock had got his first pair at seven, and his first contacts at thirteen. Unwilling to conquer the monotony of daily routine, he’d scratched his cornea three times before he turned seventeen.

Mycroft promised himself that when the time came he would accept it with grace, grateful for years of perfect vision. And he would. When the time came. Years and years in the future.

In the past few months, however, his arms had become shorter.

Restaurants had become darker. _More romantic?_

Fine print had become finer. _Hiding something?_

Even his bedroom lamp seemed to have dimmed. _Energy efficiency?_

It was the combination of all these things that finally did it. The dimness of the bedside light, the miniscule type in his briefing book, and eyes fatigued from a fifteen-hour flight.

He rolled across the bed and picked up a pair of specs resting on the corner of the nightstand. He cringed when he felt the cheap plastic. The frames were both clunky and unsubstantial. The incongruity bothered him as much as the indignity.

But the moment they graced his face, his arms regained their original length.

The bedroom door creaked open.

He heard his partner’s warm laugh. “Busted.”


End file.
